


Sleepsong

by clowsan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowsan/pseuds/clowsan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa sank onto the edge of the bed where her brother— her cousin — lay with one hand upon his chest and the other splayed on the furs. Jon looked so peaceful and so still that it seemed that the Stranger had already taken him. But he was warm when she touched him. Warmer than he should have been in the halls of Winterfell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepsong

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Cross posted from tumblr. Un'betaed. This a fusion of Alice in Wonderland, Inception and Sleeping Beauty. Canon AU. Timeline is wonky. Forgive me.

"He sleeps, Your Grace." 

"Sleeps?"

Samwell gave her a forlorn look. Like her asking was putting salt into an open wound. Perhaps it did. Perhaps the young Maester took this as a failure in his part.  ”Yes, My Queen. Sleeps.”

Sansa sank onto the edge of the bed where her brother— her cousin — lay with one hand upon his chest and the other splayed on the furs. Jon looked so peaceful and so still that it seemed that the Stranger had already taken him. But he was warm when she touched him. Warmer than he should have been in the halls of Winterfell. Another testament of his true parentage. 

"For how long has he been like this?" She inquired as she waved errant curls away from his face.

"Ever since the flames had given him life."

She frowned in response.  _That long_. She thought. She had heard of the fire story as she was riding to reclaim her home from the traitor Boltons with the armies of Vale, Riverlands and loyal Northern houses behind her. She had wanted to travel to the Wall to see to his well being but duties and memories of how she had treated Jon when they were younger had held her back. 

"It is wise that you brought him here, Master Samwell. Perhaps the familiar surroundings would rouse him from his slumber."

Samwell flushed and shifted on his feet.”It was not my idea to bring Jon… that is the Lord Commander here. It was the Red Woman’s. I refused at first but but I have done everything I can. None worked.”

He deflated after his stream of words. Like a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Some of the Mormonts that once served Stannis had spoken of the Red Woman and Sansa wondered how much of the woman’s story was true.

She offered Samwell a smile. ”Nonetheless, you have brought him here unharmed and for that I will forever be grateful.”

The Maester’s face burned red as he mumbled under his breath that it was no great matter

*

Rebuilding and restocking Winterfell occupied much of Sansa’s time. Winter is coming and if they were to survive the horrors of the coming long night, they needed shelter and food. She worked along side her people and her gratefulness to Samwell grew even more for the help he gave in managing the Keep’s accounts and answering correspondence. The Maester’s assistance gave her a couple hours free at night which she spent by Jon’s bedside with Ghost. The white direwolf rarely left his owner’s side. 

She told Jon of her day as she stitched together furs. She spoke of what she had accomplished since they last saw each other while she scratched behind Ghost’s ear. She sang sometimes and when she felt just a bit melancholic she took his hand and traced the scars. 

"Please wake up, Jon." She murmured as she held his hand against her cheek . "Winterfell needs you. _I_  need you.”

But he remained asleep and Sansa wondered if he would have opened his eyes if it were Arya there instead of her.

*

The Red Woman had arrived five days after Jon, Ghost and Samwell. She had sought and found Longclaw. Sansa  knew she should be grateful to this woman for she was the one who brought back Jon from the dead and now she brought her cousin’s blade but that did not help the unease she felt when the older woman presented her the sword.

Melisandre, she introduced herself, asked to see Jon after the pleasantries had been set aside. Sansa’s first reaction was to say no but she could not think of a good enough reason why not. So she gave her consent and told the woman that she could join Sansa in her vigil tonight. 

Jon was in the same position as she had left him the night prior. Ghost moved from his spot by Jon’s feet to Sansa’s side when she sat on her chair by the side of the bed. The Red Woman stood at corner beside the bed post, a small smile playing on her lips.

"He is stubborn, your cousin." She said. "I had hoped being in his childhood home would help him but it seems like he needed more push."

Sansa schooled her features to not show any of the confusion she felt. “You know why he sleeps?” 

The Red Woman looked at her with eyes that danced in the fire light. “This is no ordinary sleep, Your Grace.The Lord Commander is lost in his dreams.” 

This time Sansa could not stop the furrow the appeared between her brows. Ghost stiffened and let out a quiet growl when Melisandre stepped towards her. Sansa made shushing noises and stroked the direwolf’s fur to calm the beast down.

"He needs to make a decision but something holds him back. Now he is in the in-between and he is lost."

*

_He needs to make a decision. He is lost_. Melisandre’s words plagued Sansa’s mind the next day. She had not been paying much attention to the meeting she had with her council. There were wights everywhere, her council members reported. It made Sansa think of the Red Woman’s parting words.  _He is the Prince that was promised. He will save us all from the Long Night_. 

"Your mind is not with us today, Your Grace." 

Sansa looked at the source of the voice. Everybody had left except one. “Uncle, I have told you it’s Sansa when it is just us.”

Brynden Tully smiled. “Aye. Now tell me what troubles you, my sweet niece.”

She pursed her lips. “My bro- my cousin still sleeps. I worry for him.” 

There was a curious expression on the Blackfish’s face for a second. “He is a strong lad. He will pull through.” He gave her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. “Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off and see to him.”

Sansa begins to shake her head in refusal but her great uncle was having none of it.

"You have been working everyday since we got Winterfell back. I think you deserve some rest. I will make sure everything is in order."

She sighed and reluctantly accepted the respite. 

*

She found herself in the company of the Red Woman in the Godswood. 

"Your highness." She greeted with a low curtsy.

Sansa inclined her head in reply. “Lady Melisandre.”

There were silent for a while. Just the rustle of the branches and leaves of the weirwood between them. 

It was Sansa who broke the quiet. “You say Jon has a decision to make. Will that wake him?”

"Yes. But he cannot make a decision if he is lost." 

Sansa frowned as she glanced at her companion. She was surprised that the older woman was looking at her. “Is there… is there anyway I can help him?”

The Red Woman smiled. 

*

"Are you sure you want to go through this, Your Grace?" Samwell asked as he fussed over the red ribbon that looped over her right wrist and Jon’s left, connecting them. He did not fully trust the Red Woman.

So did she, but what other choice did they had. “It will be alright, Maester Samwell.” She reassured him. “We will have Jon back soon.” 

The room was heady with the smell of herbs from the concoction Melisandre was mixing.  _Kissed by fire and fire in the blood_. Those were the woman’s words. _I had no doubt that you can help him traverse the maze that is his mind. You will be his northern star. You will lead him home and save us all._

Ghost paced upon the floor like he knew something would happen but he did not display any outward aggression and Sansa took that as a good omen.

There was a puff of smoke from the cauldron and Melisandre moved toward them with a steaming goblet. The priestess explained that it was a potion to join together their unconscious minds.

The older woman sat on the other side of Sansa and passed her the goblet. “Drink, Your Grace.” She said.

Sansa took the goblet drank half of the liquid. It tasted spicy and made her tongue dance with flavor. She passed it to Samwell who helped the unconscious Jon drink the rest. 

The Red Woman smiled and looped her wrist using other end of the white ribbon that was fastened around the younger woman’s left wrist. 

The effects of the potion descended upon her quickly and Sansa felt herself growing tired. Her eye lids were heavy and it took much effort to keep them open.

"Remember Your Highness, the red string would lead you to him." Melisandre’s voice sounded so far. "Do not stray from the path the white string shows you…"

It was the last thing she heard before she let sleep drag her into the darkness. 

*

Sansa could hear the rustling of branches and leaves. She slowly opened her eyes. She immediately recognized the place as Winterfell’s Godswood. For a moment, she was confused until she felt the two ribbons around her wrists. Both were extending at different direction.

Jon. This was Jon’s dreams. His unconscious mind. She stood up and discovered that she was only wearing a thin shift. But her priority was not propriety. She had to find Jon. 

_Red string would lead me to him_. She thought as she followed the material deeper into the Godswood. She was not sure how long she had been walking but she heard somebody crying. The cries grew louder until she came upon the clearing. 

There under the great Weirwood was a small boy with black curls. No more than five. He looked familiar but Sansa could not see his face for he was curled into ball. The red string disappeared around his middle. 

She approached him cautiously. “Why do you cry, little boy?” She asked.

The child perked up and scrambled to stand. Sansa could see the red string wrapped around his small wrist and she knew why he looked familiar before she gazed upon his teary gray eyes. His still rounded face brought an onslaught of memories for Sansa.  _Jon_. 

"I am lost!" He cried out, despairingly before fresh tears sprang from his eyes. 

Sansa’s feet moved before she could think. She cradled the boy against her chest and ran a hand through his curls. 

"I have tried and tried to find a way out but I can’t." He said as he clung to her shift. 

"I know, sweetling. I know." Sansa made comforting noises and rubbed circles on his back until Little Jon’s sobs stopped. 

"I don’t want to be lost anymore." He murmured.

"You won’t be. I am here now. I can and will help you."

Little Jon sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his tunic. “Truly?”

She nodded as she kissed the top of his head. 

"What is your name?" He asked.

" I am Sansa."

"Sansa." He repeated as if testing the syllables on his tongue, "That’s a pretty name."

Sansa smiled, distinctly recalling the time when she told Jon that complimenting a girl’s name was only proper.

"I am Jon."

"I know."

*

Little Jon gripped her hand tightly as they followed the white string out of the Godswood even when she explained that the red string would lead her back to him. It both gladdened and saddened her heart. They had been walking for a long time but she did not feel any fatigue nor hunger nor cold though she was inadequately clothed in her shift. Perhaps it was different in here in the Dreamworld.

"Look!" Little Jon exclaimed as they cleared the canopy of trees. 

Sansa panned her head up to where he was pointing and saw Winterfell of the old. The way it looked before it had been burned and ransacked to the ground by traitors and her heart caught in her throat. The white string passed through its gates and so there they went.

The gates opened as they passed through and instead of being in the courtyard they were suddenly in the Great Hall. It made Sansa’s head spin and beside her Little Jon loosened his hold of her hand. She turned to check on the small boy but he was not so small anymore.

He was still young, but gone was the roundness from his cheek. He was wearing a jerkin now and riding breeches. He was taller too and reached about Sansa’s shoulder. He looked so much like their—her— father. This was Jon at ten. 

"I know this place." He said in a cracking voice. "I grew up here."

There was a patter of footsteps from around the corner.  _"Jon! Come along! You’re lagging behind!"_

Jon’s face lit up just as Sansa’s fell in recognition. “Robb! That’s my brother Robb.” He grabbed her hand. “Come I will introduce you.”

Sansa dug her heels on the ground.  _You must not stray from the path the white string shows you_.  ”No Jon. We cannot go there.”

"But why?" He asked as Robb’s laughter rang through the hall. 

She glanced the darkness where Robb’s laughter originated from. “The darkness will consume us and we’ll be lost again.” She said, repeating the words of the Red Woman. “You don’t want to be lost again, correct?”

Jon looked torn. “But my brother…”

"I will bring you to him." Robb’s bones lay in the crypts of Winterfell. "When we get out of here, I swear I will bring you to him."

There was a moment of silence then Jon nodded. She forced a smile on her face as she turned her hand to curl around his.

They followed the white string up the staircase. Up and up they went.

*

The trek led them to the Maester’s Tower. Sansa did not hesitate to open the door. A flock of crows burst out from the threshold. She lifted an arm to protect her face but they seemed to miss her entirely. When they were gone, she let out a gasp at the sight that was laid out in front of her. 

She was at the edge of the world. Godwoods and snow plains as far as her eyes could see. She could only remember bits and pieces about the view on the top of the Wall but she was sure no story could have done it justice 

"Are you alright?" A deep voice asked. 

She glanced at her companion. Lad Jon was gone and this was Jon as she last seen before she went to King’s Landing all those years ago. A dark stubble peppered his jaw and his chin. He was taller than her, with broad shoulders under the black fur lined cloak he wore. 

And for the first time in this strange Dreamworld, she felt like she really found him and tears sprung from her eyes.

"Jon." She said as she flung herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against his shoulders in relief. 

He was stiff at first but gradually he relaxed and raised his arms to hold her and envelop her with his cloak in response. The action made her feel safe. 

"Sansa, what are you doing here?" He asked as he ran a comforting hand up and down her back. It sent shivers down her spine and it reminded her how long it had been since somebody touched her so intimately.

She looked up to him. “I came here to bring you home.”

"Home?" He asked, confused. 

She nodded and lifted up her wrist to show him the white string. "You're lost here, Jon."

He opened his mouth to say something but there were shouts in the courtyard. There was panic on his face before sprinted off to the opposite direction of the white string. The red string stretched after him.

"Jon!" She called out before following him.

She got in the rickety lift but instead of going down the other side cracked open and she stepped out of the courtyard. Wildlings were fighting with the men of the Night's Watch. The red string gave her a direct path to where Jon was slumped on the snow covered ground.

He was holding a body. A wildling woman with curly red hair. Her blood stained the snow.

"I did this. I killed her." Jon stated, as he tenderly tucked away some of the woman's hair behind her ear.

Around them the darkness crept in,  swallowing everything. "Jon, we need to go." Sansa said. The white string tugged on her. A warning. "Jon please. We cannot stay."

But he did not move. His focus was on the dead woman in front of him. Dread filled her gut as the sounds of fighting became muted and disappeared completely.When she saw the shadows clinging to the wildling woman's cloak, she took action.She grabbed Jon's face and forced him to face her. "Jon, I understand you feel pain and regret but we cannot stay here."

He might have seen something on her face. Perhaps the terror she felt for he stood up. The woman's body disappeared as the darkness swallowed it. She grasped Jon's hand and ran towards the light.

*

Sansa watched as Jon snapped twigs for the small fire he built. She could feel tiredness now but not the cold. She told Jon that but he still insisted on making fire anyway as they stopped for the night. She sat with her knees to her chest and wondered if this sudden feeling of exhaustion was because they were almost out of this Dreamworld.

"Who was she?" She asked when Jon finally sat beside her.

He did not reply for so long, just starting at the dancing fire that Sansa thought he did not hear her question. "Her name was Ygritte." He said, finally. "She was one of the Free Folk." 

They were quiet again.

Then Alayne Stone reared up from her subconscious.Bastard brave. "Did you love her?" She inquired. 

Jon glanced at her. He looked pensive. "I could have." 

She licked her lips and though she did not feel the cold she huddled under his cloak and tucked herself against him. "Tell me about her." She murmured. 

Better out than in. She had learned when dealing with a loss loved one. He talked through the night about Ygritte, about the Free Folk, about his men's betrayal. She shared about her campaign, her rebuilding of Winterfell and of Samwell and Ghost waiting for them to return. 

*

There was no clear flow of time here. Sansa diligently followed the white string across the snow plains. Jon had wanted to lead the way and to block the wind that suddenly buffeted them but they discovered he could not see the white string and she could not feel the cold anyway so she was at front. 

She could feel they were near to their final destination. If not for the white string, the stretch of unchanging scenery and the wild winds would have made even the most persistent of men to turn back and she knew that last leg of the journey was the most difficult.

"Tell me again." She said as Jon draped his cloak and his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close as they stopped for third time. 

Jon rolled her eyes playfully. He had told her this story a total of four times now. The story itself was not funny anymore but she could now get enough of how Jon's eyes crinkled at the edge because of amusement. It pained her that she did not have much recollections of him smiling at her. She bowed her head ashamed. She had treated him poorly when they were younger. 

"Sansa?"

She glanced a him and grew even more ashamed at the worried expression on his face.

"What did I say?" He asked.

Sansa shook her head. "Nothing... it's just I have never apologized for the way I have treated you when we were children." She looked away from him. "I had not been the kindest when I was young."

It Jon's turn to shake his head. He gently took her chin to make her look at him. "That was in the past. You came for me here and I can't think of a better example of sisterly affection."

"Cousinly." She corrected without thinking and cupped his cheek. 

There was a glint in his grey eyes before he nodded. "Cousinly."

She felt the corners of her mouth lift and she leaned in. She could not hide the hurt from her face when he turned away so her lips landed on his cheek. She pulled back but he was quick to explain himself if haltingly.

"It's not that... I...this is not how..." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want our first kiss to happen here in the land of dreams, Sansa. Dreams are forgotten when we wake up. I want to remember everything."

She smiled at him. For a man who claimed to be rubbish with flowery declarations, Jon's honest words were up par with the sweetest poetry.

"I understand." She replied as she stood up.

He gave her a confused look.

"We shouldn't waste much time, now should we?"

*

It was a dragon. Sansa was not sure what she had expected but it was not a massive three headed black and red beast guarding a tower. The Tower of Joy. She realized belatedly. Beside her Jon tensed and she squeezed his hand as the dragon heads expelled rows of flames. 

"We're almost there." She said as she glanced at him.

Her eyes grew wide. She had not notice him change appearance again. This was the Jon that laid prone in the real world. His face was no longer unmarked with scars and pain brought on by life. 

"I've been here before." He murmured. " But I had lacked the conviction to go through with it. I had been afraid what it meant for me if I walked straight forward and not get burnt. I got trapped in a loop as a consequence." He looked at her. "I only ever wanted to be a Stark, my whole life."

She listened to his words and wrapped her arms around him. "You are a Stark, first, Jon." She did not take her eyes off his. "You have wolf blood running through your veins. But there is fire there too." 

He nodded. His eyes were hard with determination. "Stay here." He said as he removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. 

Sansa had faith in Jon but that did not stop her hands from clutching the edges of his cloak as he walked towards the dragon. The beast's three heads roared and growled at his approach. 

Jon stopped in front of it. His arms raised as if calming the beast. The heads bared their teeth, all as long as Sansa's arms, at him.

_At least they are not breathing out flames._ She contemplated.

She had barely finished this thought before all three heads reared their long scaly necks back and released an inferno upon Jon.

*

Sansa was frozen for a moment. Then she heard somebody scream Jon's name. It took her a moment to perceive that it was her who was yelling her cousin's name. She moved towards the massive ball of fire, stumbling at first then smoothly and quickly when she found her footing, 

The heat of the flames stopped her on her tracks. It was odd to feel the heat when she had not felt anything temperature wise since she got in this world. She grasped the red string around her wrist, the one connecting her to Jon, and pulled. It was taunt still and hope blossomed in her chest.   


She watched as suddenly the massive ball of fire began to collapse in on itself. Like an empty egg. She finally released the breath she did not know she was holding when she saw the familiar figure of Jon standing. The dragon was nowhere to be found.

She ran towards him and fussed over him. He smiled and caught her shoulders to still her movements. "I am unharmed." He said. "And look."

She peeked over her shoulders and saw the entrance of the tower. A circular door with a large silver knocker in the fashion of a direwolf's head. The white string was tied to the ring. 

"We're going home." She said as she entwined her fingers between his. 

"Aye." He replied as the they pressed their free hands on the wood. "I will see you in the waking world."

He drew their joined hands to lips and pressed a kiss her knuckles before together they pushed.

*

Sansa could hear voices and could feel movement. She forced her lids to open and was gifted with the face of her cousin hovering over her. 

"Jon!" She exclaimed, giddy and relieved.

Throwing propriety to the air she flung herself unto him causing Jon to be off balanced and land back on the bed with her on top of him. 

"Sansa." He choked out before chuckling and wrapping his arms around her as well. 

Around her she could hear Samwell's hurrahs and Ghost's happy barks. 

"You're awake. Thank Gods." She was spouting off gibberish as she buried her face at the crook of his neck. 

"I am glad to be awake as well, sweet girl."

It took a while but when they finally composed themselves, she let Samwell have Jon for a moment. The Maester had wanted to do some quick test to verify Jon's health. Sansa seized that time to talk to Melisandre outside the room. 

"I have no words to express my gratitude." Sansa started.

"You do not have to, Your Grace," The older woman answered. "In fact it is I who should be thanking you. You found him and helped him make a choice." 

Sansa opened her mouth but the Red Woman placed a finger over her red lips. "The Prince is in need of your company." She said.

Sure enough, Samwell exited the room and told him that he would like to speak to Sansa. She excused herself and entered the chambers. 

Jon was up on his feet. She offered  her hand which he took and used to pull her closer. "My Queen." He said. "I am forever in your debt. How can I ever repay you?"

She smiled and tilted her head as if thinking. "Well I remember a man from a dream who told me that he wanted our first kiss to be in the waking world."

"He is a smart man." He said, as he cupped her cheek.

She hummed and leaned in. "I shall be the judge of that."

Long ago,Sansa had once thought that it would be sweet to see Jon again and as their lips touched for the first time she knew she had been right.


End file.
